


Prophecy Interrupted

by zinke



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Drama, Gen, Humor, Mythology References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 11:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinke/pseuds/zinke
Summary: “I think what Colonel O’Neill is trying to say,” Daniel interjects quickly, stepping forward and raising his hands in supplication, “is that we’re not here to hurt you. We’re peaceful explorers from a planet called Earth.”“What did you say?”“Ah…” Jackson hesitates, looking to his teammates in confusion. “We’re explorers—”“Not that,” Kara says with a sharp shake of her head. “You said you were from Earth.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I initially wrote this - what at the time was intended to be the beginning of a long, plotty crossover - almost seven years ago. For those familiar with my writing, you’ll know that long, plotty fics are very much not my usual modus operandi. As well intentioned as I’d been, my ability to keep at this story petered out, and it spent many years growing virtual dust on my USB drive until this week when I rediscovered it literally by accident. And realized that it wasn’t actually as bad as I’d, at the time it was written, thought it was. 
> 
> Couple that with my recent fall down a BSG re-watch rabbit hole, and it felt like it was about time this story - albeit incomplete - saw the light of day. In the interest of full disclosure, this fic is not really ‘complete’ and I have no plans to finish it. That said, what is written does come to a natural if not ‘neatly tied in a bow’ end point. Hopefully, this won’t deter too many of you from reading on.
> 
> This story goes AU immediately following the events of the Battlestar Galactica episode ‘Kobol’s Last Gleaming’. Forget everything RDM ever showed you in the BSG finale episode ‘Daybreak’ (you’re welcome). In the SG1 universe, events take place sometime shortly after the seventh season episode ‘Grace’.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Bitch took my ride.” Shielding her eyes, Kara watches as the Raider - _her_ Raider – banks left and shoots off, leaving a choking cloud of irradiated dust and debris in its wake.

“Sharon wouldn’t just leave. She’ll be back.”

“Of course she will, Helo!” Kara exclaims, wheeling around to glare at her companion. “With a battalion of her shiny, chrome-plated toaster friends.” She runs a hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers graze a nasty cut on the back of her head. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“There’s a Cylon base—”

Kara glances pointedly at the fading vapor trail from the stolen Raider. “We’d be dead before we could get within half a klick of the place.”

“The spaceport, then. There has to be something there that can still fly.”

Before Kara has a chance to tell him what she thinks of the suggestion, the ground beneath their feet begins to move. Uttering a curse, Kara grabs Helo’s arm and pulls him towards a nearby tree, the closest cover she can find. By the time they reach it, the rumbling has stopped, leaving behind a preternatural quiet that sets Kara’s teeth on edge.

“What was that?”

“What the frak do you think?” Kara glances skyward, scanning the horizon for the Cylon Raiders she has no doubt are closing in on their position. “We’ve got to get inside. _Now._ ”

For once, Helo doesn’t argue. He follows a few steps behind, covering her six as together they climb the museum steps and ducks through the museum’s shattered glass doors. Kara is halfway across the lobby when she hears it – the unmistakable echo of voices coming from somewhere deeper inside the building. Cursing silently, she drops into a crouch behind the nearby ticket counter and signals to Helo. 

He joins her a second later, his sidearm at the ready. “Company?”

“Upstairs.” Kara does a quick survey of the room before starting across the lobby. “C’mon.”

“Kara!” Helo hisses after her, “Where are you going?”

“We can’t have someone following us,” she explains impatiently. “Whoever it is up there, it’s a safe bet they aren’t friendly. We need to take them out. And fast.”

Off it’s hinges, the door hangs at an awkward angle that blocks almost all of the space beyond from view. Kara can hear voices – at least two – but the sound is too low for her to make out how many there are or which direction they’re coming from.

“Stay here,” she hisses before carefully slipping past the door into what use to be the antiquities gallery. Keeping herself low to the ground, she hurries to hide behind one of the massive Doric columns lining the space and listens.

“There are definitely signs of a recent catastrophic radiological event,” a female voice says from somewhere in the next room.

Peeking out from her hiding place, Kara can just make out the figure of a blonde woman wearing what looks like standard Fleet-issue BDUs. Everything else about her, however, is wrong, from the patches on her shoulder to the more worrisome gun hanging from a cord around her neck.

A tall, graying man steps into view and joins the blonde in peering down at a small, blipping device in the woman’s hand. “Bomb?”

Even from a distance, the man’s posture and bearing make it clear that, who or whatever he is, he is the one in charge. The way his hand rests on the butt of his gun, fingers curled at the ready as his eyes occasionally flick around the room all but screams career military. Kara should know; she’s been doing the same damn thing since she walked into this place. Not that’s it’s done her a whole hell of a lot of good….

“ _Bombs_ is the much more likely scenario, if these ionizing and gamma radiation levels are anything to go by,” the blonde clarifies with a frown. “Surface UV radiation is also elevated. We should try to minimize direct exposure to the sun as much as possible, sir."

The man arches an eyebrow at his companion. “And here I was hoping I’d have a chance to work on my tan,” he retorts with a glibness that, under different circumstances, would have made Kara smile.

As it is, the smile the blonde gives him is momentary at best. “As long as we don’t stay here too long we should be okay.”

“Any way you can be a little more specific, Carter?”

The woman re-consults the meter in her hand and takes a moment to do some mental calculations. “Four hours. Any longer than that and we’ll be at risk.”

“Wait—what?” A floppy-looking bespectacled man hurries into view. He’s dressed the same as the others, though not nearly as well armed. He sneezes once, loudly and raises a fistful of tissues to his nose as his leader eyes him impatiently. “You can’t be serious.”

“Daniel, this is not something that’s up for negotiation.”

“Jack, will you just…take a minute and _look_ at this place?”

Jack makes a show of looking at their surroundings. Lifting his gun, he picks at a concrete support column with the muzzle, watching pointedly as several sizeable chunks break loose and fall to the ground. “Well,” he begins speculatively, “it could certainly use some work. But it’s nothing Bob Vila and the boys on _This Old House_ couldn’t handle.”

“I am not familiar with that particular home improvement program.” Craning her neck, Kara can just see a muscular, dark-skinned man with a gilded tattoo on his forehead regarding Jack curiously.

“Before your time, T.”

Impatiently, Daniel hurries forward to grab hold of Jack’s arm. “Don’t you realize where we are?”

Catching sight of the older man’s rapidly darkening expression, Daniel immediately relinquishes his grip, even as he continues to press his argument. “It’s a museum! Art, or possibly history, from the looks of it. The point is, there could be hundreds if not thousands of years’ worth of information about this culture’s history under one roof—”

“So to speak,” Jack interjects with a pointed look toward the cracked and crumbling ceiling.

“—and we might not have a better opportunity to learn about these people,” Daniel concludes seamlessly, ignoring the quip.

Jack considers Daniel’s words, taking another long look around the room in which they’ve found themselves. Eventually he pulls off his cap and wipes the sweat from his brow before pointedly meeting the other man’s eyes. “Four hours, Daniel. You’d better get started. Teal’c, you’re with me.” The dark man and Jack step seamlessly into a standard recon sweep formation, advancing in tandem across the room.

As they unwittingly move in on her position, Kara slips back into the shadows of the stairwell to rejoin Helo.

“There are four of them. All different. They’re wearing what look like Colonial uniforms.”

“Are any of them—”

“No,” she cuts him off sharply. “No Sharons. Or any of the others we know about.”

“Why would they be impersonating Colonial officers?“

“You’re the resident expert on Cylons, Helo; you tell me.”

Helo glances up the stairwell. “Do you think they know we’re here?”

Kara shakes her head. “I think they’re looking for this,” she says, picking up the Arrow of Apollo from where she’d left it on the floor.

“The Arrow? Why?”

Kara frowns. “Don’t know; don’t care.” Rising to her feet, she tucks the arrow into her belt and, once secured, reaches for her pistol. “Let’s go,” she says, releasing the safety and cocking the barrel. 

 

*end chapter 1*


	2. Chapter 2

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Kara and Helo take up positions on either side of the archway between the two rooms. From this angle, Kara can see Carter and the one called ‘T’ tinkering with what looks like some kind of wheeled conveyance device parked at the foot one of the Colonies oldest and most recognizable relics: a towering, millennia-years old stone ring known as the Omega. Despite its significance, Kara gives the Omega no more than a cursory glance; her more immediate concerns are Jack and Daniel, who are standing only a few feet away from her position, staring at an ancient Caprican vase.

“So Daniel, what do you think happened here?”

“I have no idea. Their writing seems to be derived at least in part from the alphabet of the ancient Greeks.” Daniel points to the squat, primitive-looking vase with the tip of his pencil. “If I’m translating this correctly, these pictograms make reference to a place called Kobol, where the thirteen tribes of man lived in a kind of utopia with their Gods.”

“So…probably not a Goau’ld world.”

Daniel makes a notation in his journal before returning his attention to the panel’s inscription. “Probably not.”

“And this is Kobol?”

“I don’t think so; if I’m right, the people of this world _came_ from Kobol and their ancestors were one of the thirteen tribes.”

Jack narrows his eyes, studying the vase critically for several moments. “Okay, so I’ll ask; if everything there was so hunky-dory, why did they up and leave to come here?”

Kara furrows her brow, and tries to make sense of what she is hearing. Every Cylon she’s ever encountered has known as much if not more about Colonial history and religion than the Colonials themselves. So why the hell do _these_ guys sound so ignorant of the religion of their creators? She swivels towards Helo to see if she can read what he’s thinking, and cringes when she hears the point of the arrow drag noisily across the floor.

“Well, maybe—”

Jack holds up a curt, silencing hand, his eyes scanning the room as beside him Daniel reaches for an S-shaped chrome device strapped to his leg. Cursing inwardly, Kara quickly hides the Arrow in the shadows behind her before adjusting the grip on her pistol. Peering out from behind the wall, she watches Jack execute a series of hand signals. His people quickly move into position around him. Out of the corner of her eye, Kara sees Helo shift his stance and glance her way. He gives her a curt nod and together they rise to their feet. Tucking her pistol into her waistband, Kara flexes her fingers and waits as Carter takes up point on the far side of the archway and slowly inches forward, eyes sweeping the room with each step she takes.

Kara doesn’t give her a chance to see them. As soon as the other woman’s boot has crossed the threshold, Kara darts out, knocking Carter to the ground. By the time Kara’s got Carter’s arms and legs safely pinned, Helo’s made him move. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he growls, his weapon pointed at the other man’s head.

Jack eyes his companion a moment, then slowly, lifts his finger off the trigger of his weapon and raises his hands into the air. “I won’t if you won’t.”

“And the others?”

Jack doesn’t answer right away. Helo presses the muzzle of his gun more insistently against Jack’s head. “Them too,” Jack sighs, and beckons Daniel and Teal’c out from their hiding places as Kara pulls Carter roughly to her feet.

Kara looks up to find Jack studying her intently. Suspicious, she reaches for her pistol and makes a show of pressing it into the small of Carter’s back. He backs off almost instantly, adopting a casually indifferent expression that immediately puts Kara on edge.

“So, come here often?”

Kara narrows her eyes in response.

“Hey; I’m just trying to be friendly. You’re the ones who came storming in here guns blazing. So to speak,” he adds a beat later.

“I think what Colonel O’Neill is trying to say,” Daniel interjects quickly, stepping forward and raising his hands in supplication, “is that we’re not here to hurt you. We’re peaceful explorers from a planet called Earth.”

“What did you say?”

“Ah…” Jackson hesitates, looking to his teammates in confusion. “We’re explorers—”

“Not that,” Kara says with a sharp shake of her head. “You said you were from Earth.”

Teal’c inclines his head. “That is correct. We arrived on your world no more than two hours ago.”

“How?”

The tattooed stranger turns his head to indicate to the great stone circle at the far end of the room. “By means of the Stargate.”

Kara eyes the artifact with blatant disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“No; we’re not,” Daniel insists. “And we can prove it to you.”

Helo’s uncertain gaze darts between Kara and Daniel. “Kara, maybe we should—”

“You just don’t get it, do you, Helo? They’re _Cylons_.”

“I have absolutely _no_ idea what a ‘Cylon’ is,” Daniel interjects. “But I do know that I’m not one of them, and neither are any of the other members of my team.”

“Cylons!” Kara exclaims, her voice echoing strangely in the dusty, ruined space. “Shiny metal toasters with an inconvenient taste for interplanetary genocide. Except these days they’re looking less like kitchen appliances and a hell of a lot more like us.” She sends a scathing glance at her companion. “Isn’t that right, Helo?”

“Well, whatever these cyborgs of your look like,” Jack says casually, seemingly unperturbed by the gun still pointed at his head, “we’re not them.”

“Cylons,” Helo corrects.

“See?” Jack replies brightly, “Can’t even keep the name straight. So not us.”

“Do we really look that stupid to you?”

The look on Jack’s face makes it clear what his answer is. But before he can say anything that might give Kara yet another excuse to shoot him, Daniel cuts in, “We’re human. Well, most of us at any rate.”

“Most of you?”

“Colonel O’Neill, Major Carter and Daniel Jackson are human.” Teal’c lifts his chin proudly. “I am Jaffa.”

“This is frakking insane. Helo, we’re done here.”

In one fluid motion, Kara slips Carter into a chokehold and trains her pistol on Jack. The action is enough to finally wipe the smug look off of Colonel O’Neill’s face. “Hey, hey, hey! Now hold on just a minute!”

Daniel’s eyes widen in surprise. He takes a quick step forward, effectively putting himself between Kara and Jack. “I told you that we could prove to you that we are who we say we are. What can it hurt for you to at least give us that chance?”

Kara takes a menacing stride forward. “Maybe we haven’t made ourselves clear. Our entire civilization has been wiped out in a worlds-wide nuclear attack. We’re not interested in taking chances on anyone other than ourselves right now.”

Jack’s eyes dart to Carter, who shifts slightly in Kara’s grip. “The radiation levels, sir. It makes sense.”

“Okay then,” Jack says, lifting his gaze to pin Kara with a hard stare, “if your people have been wiped out, what are the two of _you_ still doing here?”

Kara holds his gaze, refusing to back down. “We survived.”

As they continue to stare at one another, the air around them stirs, lifting the layers of thick yellow dust from the floor into the air. Behind Jack, Teal’c cocks his head, then places a firm hand on the Colonel’s shoulder. “O’Neill.”

“Yeah, T. I hear it.”

And suddenly, Kara does too.

Her pulse pounding in her ears, Kara abruptly releases Carter and hurries over to join Teal’c and Jack at the window.

“A ship approaches,” Teal’c says, indicating the rapidly approaching heavy raider with a nod of his head.

Together they watch as the ship lands at the base of the museum’s front steps. The hatch opens, and Kara’s heart sinks as a trio of familiar faces emerges from the ship’s shadowy interior.

“Frak,” Kara spits as below, the group head straight up the museum steps for the front doors.

“I take it you know these people?”

“They’re Cylons.” Kara says, making a pointed show of checking the clip of her gun before pointing it at Jack. “And you led them right to us.”

Stepping between the two, Teal’c takes hold of the barrel of Kara’s pistol and slowly pushes it down. “No; we did not.”

“Yeah? Then who did?”

“You said you’ve been on the run; could they have followed you here?” Sam asks.

“Wouldn’t have needed to; they had a snitch tagging along for the ride,” Kara says, casting an accusing glance at Helo.

“No.”

“Face it, Helo; she sold us out!”

“Sharon wouldn’t do that.”

“Just like she wouldn’t hare out on us and steal our only way of getting out of here?”

“Look,” Jack interjects, scrubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t know who this ‘Sharon’ is and frankly right now I don’t really care. The way I see it, you guys have two choices. Stay here and get killed by…whoever it is down there, or come with us.” Jack casts a final glance out the window. Following his gaze, Kara locks eyes with the Leoben copy, who is watching her with a bizarre mixture of curiosity and malice.

“Alright; that’s it. We’re done here.” Jack checks the readiness of the bulky looking gun in his hand. “Daniel, dial the Gate. Carter, get together whatever gear you can. You two,” Jack says while looking pointedly at Kara, “follow me.”

For a moment, Kara considers telling him to frak off; she’s pretty sure she and Helo can handle the three skin-jobs downstairs. And she certainly doesn’t trust any of these strangers enough to let them watch her back in a fight. But she likes the odds of six against three a hell of a lot better than two, so grudgingly acquiesces. She can worry about how to get rid of them once they’ve escaped.

“The main lobby has a single, central staircase leading to the second floor. From there, the only way up is using the service staircase at the east side of the—”Kara cuts off, eyeing the others impatiently when she realizes no one is following her. “You coming?”

“We’re not going that way,” Jack says, the ghost of a grin playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Really.” Behind him, Kara can see Carter and Teal’c collecting whatever equipment they can and stacking it on their transport vehicle while Daniel bends over a squat, ovoid pedestal set in front and just to the side of the Omega. He begins pressing his hand at various points around the top, a hollow ‘ker-thunk’ echoing through the room with each touch. To Kara’s shock, the ancient stone circle begins to move, it’s inner ring spinning slowly back and forth like a combination lock as the triangular chevrons carved around its perimeter light up one by one.

“What is he—”

Daniel presses his palm to a raised red hemisphere in the center, and with a roar and blinding flash of pearlescent blue light, all hell breaks loose. Kara stumbles back a step as a great burst of pearlescent blue liquid and light explodes out from the Omega. Mouth agape, she stares in disbelief as the horizontal cascade collapses back in on itself, filling the center of the ring with what looks like a vertical, glowing pool of rippling water.

“What in the name of the gods is _that_?”

“That,” Jack says as Kara watches Carter maneuver the loaded vehicle straight into the rippling surface, then steps through and disappears herself, “is your ticket out of here.”

“You’ve got to be frakking kidding me,” Helo exclaims, taking the words right out of Kara’s mouth as Daniel follows his colleague into the Omega’s newly formed shimmering, watery abyss.

“Teal’c, will you?” Jack says dismissing them all with a wave of his hand as he takes up a covering position behind one of the crumbling stone columns flanking the room.

Giving a nod of understanding, Teal’c steps forward and, taking Kara’s arm, tries to pull her back towards the glimmering Omega.

“Wait!” Kara squawks, wrenching her arm free. She darts over to pull the Arrow from its hiding place behind the archway. As she straightens, Kara thinks she catches sight of movement from the shadowy stairway at the far end of the hall. Out of options, Kara takes a last look at Jack, giving him a nod of thanks as she allows Teal’c to lead her up the steps and into the freezing, terrifying rush of the Omega.

 

*end chapter 2*


	3. Chapter 3

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The gate activation alarm echoes loudly through the SGC as General George Hammond hurries down the corridor to the control room.

“Sergeant?”

Walter Harriman looks up briefly before returning his attention to the dizzying array of screens before him. “It’s SG1, sir.”

“They aren’t due back for another three hours.” Hammond glances through the room’s window to the room below, where a squad of marines is taking up defensive positions at the base of the Gate. “Have we received any transmissions?”

“Just the IDC, sir.”

Hammond nods. “Very well; open the iris.”

“Yes, sir.”

The massive trinium-alloy barrier slowly slides open, revealing the shimmering surface of the already active wormhole. Less than a minute later, Major Carter steps through looking – to Hammond’s relief – none the worse of wear as she guides the MALP carefully down the ramp.

Doctor Jackson and Teal’c arrive next. And they are not alone Between the two men stand a bedraggled looking man and woman who, if the condition of their uniforms is anything to go by, have had better days. The blonde woman’s face is bloodied and swollen, and though he’s trying to hide it, her companion is obviously favoring his right leg. The pair look as shocked as he is to find themselves standing there.

Colonel O’Neill bursts through the event horizon a moment later at a run, his weapon at the ready as he twists around to cover what is obviously a hasty retreat.

“Close the Iris!” Hammond commands at once. The shield slides closed, and Hammond winces when the telltale crash of something impacting the other side echoes through the gate room. The wormhole collapses a few seconds later with a characteristic, high-pitched crack.

“Notify Dr. Fraiser that she’s going to have a couple of unexpected visitors on her hands,” Hammond instructs tersely, turning for the steps to the gate room as the wormhole collapses with a characteristic, high-pitched crack.

He steps through the blast doors just in time to see the unfamiliar man turn to gaze in astonishment at the Stargate looming above them. “Oh my gods.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Jack says good-naturedly, clapping a hand on the dumbfounded younger man’s shoulder as he strides past.

“Colonel,” the General acknowledges with a nod once SG-1’s commanding officer has joined him at the foot of the ramp. “It would seem you and your team have had quite an eventful trip.”

“No more than usual, sir.”

The Colonel’s nonchalant response and accompanying shrug – a gesture infinitely more telling than any words the man might have uttered – brings a wry smile to Hammond’s lips. “Fair enough.” Sobering, Hammond glances pointedly over O’Neill’s shoulder. “And your friends?”

Jack has the good grace to look contrite. “Sorry about that, sir. At the time, we didn’t have much of a choice.”

The explanation doesn’t come as much of a surprise; after all these years, Hammond wouldn’t have expected anything less. “I can’t say I’m thrilled with the situation, Colonel. But what’s done is done. You’ll have plenty of time to explain everything at the debriefing. In the meantime, I want our guests checked out by Doctor Fraiser.”

“Take your frakking hands off me!”

“That may be a little easier said than done, sir,” Jack murmurs, hand flexing restlessly against the butt of his gun as they watch the woman shrug off the unfortunate airman who’d been tasked with relieving her of her weapon.

“Yes; I can see that.”

“They may very well be the only survivors of a planet-wide nuclear holocaust.” Doctor Jackson glances over to where Major Carter is helping the young airman to his feet. “I think their reluctance to trust us is understandable, given the circumstances.”

“That may be so Doctor, but I can’t give two armed strangers free reign of this base, no matter what kind of trauma they might have been through.” Without waiting for a reply, Hammond steps up to the foot of the ramp and clears his throat. “My name is General George Hammond, and I am the commander of this facility.”

The woman narrows her eyes at him, drawing what looks like an antique bronze arrow more tightly against her chest. “And where would that be, exactly?” 

“The United States Air Force’s Stargate Command.” Off her blank stare, the General adds, “On Earth.”

“Earth.”

Hammond glances at Jack, who gives him a shrug in response. “Yes,” the General replies carefully, “on Earth.”

“You’re lying.”

“I assure you, I’m not. Now, my people and I would be more than happy to explain all of this to you; but where I come from, it’s considered customary for introductions to be made before getting down to business.”

The pair exchanges a look. “Lieutenant Karl C. Agathon, sir,” the young man says, studiously avoiding his companion’s disapproving gaze as he gives Hammond a crisp salute. “Callsign Helo.”

Hammond smiles and returns the salute. “You’re a pilot?”

“ECO, sir. Starbuck here is the pilot,” Helo says, cocking his head in her direction. “Best in the Colonial Fleet.”

“Is that so?” he asks, turning to smile genially at their other, decidedly more hostile visitor.

After several tense moments, she returns the gesture with a tight, somewhat jaunty grin of her own. “Not that it means all that much these days.” Her flippant tone is eerily reminiscent of the one often used by Colonel O’Neill. “Lieutenant Kara Thrace. Sir.”

“Lieutenants,” he acknowledges. “Welcome to the SGC. If you would please give your weapons to my airman and follow me?”

Kara shakes her head. “No way.”

“Kinda saw that one coming,” Hammond hears Jack mutter dryly.

Ignoring the Colonel, Hammond nods and takes a breath before continuing, “As military officers, surely you can understand why I cannot allow either you or Lieutenant Agathon to carry a weapon while on this base. My people’s safety has to come first.”

“And what about _our_ safety?” she retorts, eyes flashing.

“You have my word that as long as you are here and adhere to my rules, you will be safe.”

Thrace and Helo share a long, charged glance. Grudgingly, she gives her companion a brief nod, pulls her weapon from the waistband of her pants and holds it out to the General. “The arrow stays with me.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument. “All right.” He accepts the offered pistol with a nod, taking a moment to examine the strange, fat-barreled weapon before handing it over to a nearby airman. Helo relinquishes his own weapon a moment later. “This way,” Hammond says, leading them through the blast doors and up the stairs to the conference room

Taking his seat that the head of the briefing room table, Hammond watches as SG-1 quickly settles into their usual places; Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter sitting side by side on his right, both Teal’c and Dr. Jackson on his right. Kara hesitates only a moment before striding with purpose across the room to sit at the opposite end of the table, as far away from the rest of them as possible.

Helo moves to follow her, but slows as he walks by the room’s immense window, eventually coming to a stop as he gazes, wide-eyed at the Stargate standing still and silent below them.

“So, is someone finally going to tell us what the frak that thing is?” Thrace asks, cocking her head in the direction of the window and the Gate beyond.

The General watches as Helo turns and sits down next to Kara. “We call it a ‘Stargate’,” Major Carter begins. “It’s essentially a giant superconductor that creates an inter-dimensional conduit between itself and another Gate, allowing us to travel virtually instantaneously across hundreds, sometimes thousands of light years.”

Pulling herself up slightly in her chair, Lieutenant Thrace peers at the device, then swings her gaze to Major Carter. “And this…Stargate of yours allows you to travel back and forth.”

“Yes.”

“So you can send us back.”

Major Carter’s expression falters slightly. “Well, yes but—”

“Then do it,” Thrace demands, her expression hardening into one of grim determination.

“That would not be advisable,” Teal’c interjects levelly.

For the first time since they sat down together, Agathon’s demeanor turns to one of suspicion. “Why not?”

“As we came through the Stargate, the enemy was rapidly closing in on our position. They will no doubt be waiting for you to return.”

“All of ‘em except the one who tried to follow us through and ended up pancaked against the wrong side of the Iris.” Jack glances over and catches Teal’c staring at him. “What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Thrace says with a brusque shake of her head. “We have to go back.”

“Kara, don’t you realize where we are?” Helo asks with a sweep of his hand. “This is _Earth_.”

“I’m sorry,” Daniel interjects, leaning in to rest his elbows on the table, “you keep saying that name as it holds some sort of special meaning for you.”

Agathon looks at Daniel as if the man has spontaneously grown another head. “Anyone who’s ever been to Temple knows about the home of the thirteenth tribe of man.”

Beside him, Dr. Jackson straightens slightly in his seat. “The thirteenth tribe…of Kobol?”

“What do you know about it?”

Anyone else would have taken heed of the warning in Thrace’s tone and backed down. But not Doctor Jackson. “Only what little I was able to translate from the writings in your museum. The thirteenth tribe didn’t leave Kobol with the others?”

Agathon shakes his head. “The Scrolls say that the Thirteenth Tribe left Kobol a few thousand years before the others to settle on a planet called Earth. The remaining twelve tribes left together to travel the stars, eventually settling on twelve worlds.”

“And you think we’re it.” Sam glances cautiously between the two. “The thirteenth tribe.”

No,” Thrace says with just a little too much force to be convincing.

Pulling off his cap, Jack drops it carelessly onto the tabletop before leaning back to scrub a hand through his unruly hair. “And all of this is important because…?”

Kara leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a deliberateness that makes it clear she has no intention of saying anything further.

Agathon, it seems, has other ideas. “Kara, we’re already here, and we’re not getting back without their help.” Leaning closer, he glances deliberately at Jack before meeting her eyes. “What can it hurt?”

“Pythia wrote about a _flood_ Helo; nowhere in the scriptures does it mention a mystic puddle of water that can instantaneously transport you halfway across the galaxy.”

Taking a breath, Helo turns to meet the General’s eyes. “Our people are trying to find Earth.”

“Why?”

“Because as you may have guessed,” Kara says, giving Jack and the other members of SG1 a significant look, “we have nowhere else to go.”

“Every planet?” Major Carter asks in disbelief. “Just like yours?”

Kara nods.

Hammond recalls Doctor Jackson’s earlier description of P3K-913 and feels his heart sink. “How many survivors are there?”

“Less than fifty-thousand,” Kara says, her expression grim. “A few ships were stranded off-world when the attacks began. President Roslin gathered together as many as she could and we’ve been running from the Cylons ever since.”

“My god,” the General breathes as he tries to wrap his mind around the magnitude of the devastation these people had had to endure.

Doctor Jackson clears his throat. “General, if I may; if there are other survivors out there, we need to go back and help them.”

“That’s a great idea, Daniel, except we don’t have any idea where to go back _to_. The survivors aren’t on the other side of that Stargate; they’re…” Jack raises his eyebrows and gestures expansively in Kara’s direction.

Kara stares at him, eyes narrowed. Pursing her lips, she huffs out a breath. “Kobol. My orders were to rendezvous with the fleet at Kobol.”

Daniel leans forward in his chair. “Kobol. The home of your gods?”

Helo nods. 

Major Carter glances sidelong at Daniel.“There’s no way of knowing whether or not Kobol has a working Stargate. And even if it did, we’d have no way of telling which address in the database would take us there.”

Jackson shakes his head. “Then we’ll have to go by ship.”

The General feels his heart sink. “You’re talking about _Prometheus_.”

Daniel nods.

“Do you really think the Pentagon is going to let us anywhere near that ship after what happened the last time?” Jack scoffs.

“Clearly,” Hammond says as he rises from his chair, “we have a lot to discuss before any decisions can be made.” Carter and Jack quickly follow suit, while the rest of SG1 look up at him expectantly. “It’s been a long day for everyone, and Doctor Frasier is no doubt waiting to see _all_ of you,” he says, pointedly meeting the eyes of both his own people and their visitors, “in the infirmary. We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning once everyone’s had a chance to get some sleep.”

Kara looks for a moment like she’s about to protest, but Helo’s staying hand on her arm seems to be enough to make her think better of it. The rest of the table’s occupants reply in the affirmative and, after a quick exchange about arranging quarters for their guests, Carter and Daniel lead Kara and Helo out of the room, with Teal’c bringing up the rear.

Jack stays behind, plucking a pen from the table and twirling it absently between his fingers as he watches the others file out of the room. Hammond waits until their footsteps have fully receded before turning to SG1’s commanding officer.

“What’s on your mind, Jack?”

“Well sir, you know how I’m usually the one saying we shouldn’t be diving into anything head-first? Except of course, for the times when I do…. Whatever. My point is, I think we can trust them.”

“What makes you think so?”

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet, sir. But as soon as I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

 

*end chapter 3*


	4. Chapter 4

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Two hours and just as many defensive outburst from Kara Thrace later, Carter is leading the way through the maze of SGC’s hallways towards the guest quarters. Helo keeps pace with her, asking questions as they walk. Kara says nothing; her footfalls on the concrete floor, coupled with an occasional glance over her shoulder are the only way Sam is able to assure herself that the Lieutenant is still with them.

“You been here long?”

Sam pulls her eyes away from the stormy-eyed pilot behind her and offers Helo a smile. “The SGC?”

“The...Air Force, I think you called it.”

Sam nods. “My dad was an Air Force General, so in a way, I’ve been in the Armed Forces all my life. He was a big part of why I decided to enter the Academy.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Kara’s posture straighten slightly, head cocked so that she can listen in to their conversation. “How about you, Lieutenant Thrace? Have you been in the fleet long?”

Kara’s steps momentarily falter, before resuming their steady rhythm. “Since I was old enough to enlist.” She pauses, then adds, “My mother was a Marine.”

The admission surprises Carter. She glances curiously behind her, but Kara doesn’t say anything more and the rest of the journey is spent in silence.

As they reach Kara’s assigned quarters, Sam reaches for her passkey. She hesitates, however, before opening the door. Turning, she makes a point of catching Kara’s eye before asking, “I’d like to run some tests on your Arrow.”

“What?” Kara growls, her grip on the artifact in question visibly tightening. 

“The Arrow. I have equipment in my lab here that may help us better understand what it is, what it’s purpose is.”

“It’s purpose is none of your business.”

“Kara,” Help interjects, resting a hand on his companion’s arm. “C’mon.”

Kara scrutinizes her friend. “You always were an easy sell, Helo.”

“And you’ve always been too stubborn for your own good.” Helo glances up to meet Carter’s eyes before adding softly, “What’ve we got to lose?”

“A hell of a frakking lot,” Kara mutters sourly. Stepping back, she eyes Carter dubiously before slowly offering her the Arrow. “Just get it back to me in one piece. Otherwise the President’ll have my ass out the airlock.”

“Okay,” Sam replies, at a loss for anything else to say.

Kara regards her levelly for another moment, then nods. “Okay.” 

Fingering the arrow in her hand, Sam unlocks to door and gives the pair the penny-tour of their room before leaving them alone to rest. Closing the door gently behind her, Carter nods absently to the guard and starts down the hallway to where Daniel is standing, shifting anxiously from foot to foot while he waits for her.

Daniel casts a pointed glance at the artifact in Sam’s hand. “How’d you do it?”

“I didn’t,” she says with shrug, handing the arrow to him. “But what I am going to do is get this to my lab and run a spectral analysis on it tonight before Kara has a chance to change her mind.”

Adjusting his glasses, Daniel leans in to inspect the object more closely. “It looks like there are some markings here along the shaft; do you mind taking a couple of scans and sending them over?”

“Consider it done,” Sam says with a smile as she takes back the artifact and together they start off down the corridor.

“We have to go back, Sam,” he says a few minutes later as they step into the waiting elevator car. “There are fifty-thousand people out there who need our help. That’s not something we can just walk away from.”

“There’s a lot to consider, Daniel. We don’t know exactly where this fleet is, we know nothing about their hyperspace capabilities, what condition the ships are in…let alone whether they’d want our help in the first place.”

“Given the circumstances, I’d think they’d be happy to take whatever help they could get.”

“Maybe. But there are also these Cylons to consider. I’m not saying I don’t agree with you,” she says quickly, cutting off the protest she knows from years of experience is coming. “I’m just saying…we need more information before we present anything to the General. And having a few hours along with this,” Sam adds, waggling the Arrow in her hand as the elevator doors open onto Level 19, “Will certainly help.”

Daniel nods, still looking frustrated.

“Don’t worry, Daniel.” Sam steps off the elevator and turns to him. “We’ll find a way. We always do.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Hell of a day, huh?”

Cracking an eye, Helo watches Kara pace the length of the room for a few seconds before letting his eyelids slip closed again. 

“Then again,” Kara muses as she drops into a chair,” I guess it could be worse. We could have been killed.”

“Or captured.”

“Who says we haven’t been?” His expression must betray his confusion because a moment later she continues, “We’re under _guard_ , Helo. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

Opening his eyes, Helo pulls himself to a sitting position on the bed. “The Old Man would’ve done the same thing if the situation was reversed and you know it.”

“Maybe,” Kara admits grudgingly. “Look, all I’m saying is that we need to be careful.”

“You still don’t trust them?”

“Why should I?”

“They haven’t killed us yet, for one,” he replies with a shrug.

“Give ‘em time,” Kara mutters.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kara leans forward in her chair to look Helo squarely in the eye. “Cylons like to frak with our heads, Helo. Or have you forgotten?”

He doesn’t try to pretend he doesn’t know what – and to whom – she is alluding. “What do you want me to say, Kara? That I frakked up by trusting Sharon? Fine. I’ll say it: I frakked up. The Cylons played me for a fool and I fell for it hook, line and sinker. But these people are different, Kara. I can feel it.”

“Oh you can, can you?” she retorts with a disbelieving smirk.

“We have to trust someone, Kara. We’ve got no chance of getting home unless we do.”

“What do you want from me, Helo? I gave Carter the Arrow, didn’t I?” 

“So…you do trust them.”

“Did I say that?”

“Then why…?”

“I haven’t seen any obvious ways out of this place which means for the moment, we’re stuck here. Might as well play along and see what we can learn, right?” she says with a shrug.

“You did the right thing, Kara.”

“See, that’s the difference between you and me, Helo: you’ve always been a glass half-full kind of guy. Me?” Kara picks at the edge of the tabletop. “I learned better a long time ago.”

Helo gives her a long, measuring look. “Do you believe it? The Prophecy?”

Kara offers him a non-committal shrug in response. “The President believes it.”

“But do _you_?”

“I disobeyed a direct order, stole a military asset and nearly got myself killed so I could get my hands on that Arrow. So yeah, Helo, I suppose I do.”

“Why?”

The question catches Kara off-guard. “Because,” she finally replies, “if Earth doesn’t exist, if we can’t find it…what else is there?”

“And a three-thousand year old prophecy that they taught us in Temple as children is easier to believe than all of this?” he says, indicating their surroundings with a sweep of his hand. “Prophecies can be wrong Kara.”

“So…what? You’re saying this was fate?”

“I’m saying keep an open mind. Listen to what General Hammond and his people have to say. And then make up your own mind about what we should do.”

Kara says nothing in response. After a few minutes, she rises to her feet and, giving Helo the slightest of nods, climbs into the other bed and closes her eyes.

 

*end chapter 4*


	5. Chapter 5

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Have you two been up all night?” Looking up, Daniel watches as Jack sweeps into his office, a steaming mug of delicious-smelling coffee in his hand.

Daniel crosses his arms and glares accusingly at the Colonel. “Not quite. You couldn’t have brought enough to share with the rest of the class?”

Jack makes a show of taking a deep swallow from his mug. “You know, I do think I’m finally beginning to rub off on him,” Jack says, turning to Teal’c with an expression of mock-concern.

Teal’c stares levelly at Jack for several beats, then turns pointedly to Daniel. “What is it you have discovered, Daniel Jackson?”

“I think it’s more a matter of what _Sam and I_ have discovered.”

Jack waves his mug in a ‘get on with it’ gesture, coming dangerously close to spilling some of its contents onto the floor. “…And?”

“Well sir,” Sam says, picking up the arrow from where it lies atop a haphazard pile of papers on Daniel’s desk. “Last night after Kara gave me the Arrow I ran a few tests. Daniel took a look at it this morning and he and I have both come to the same conclusion: the Arrow is Ancient.”

Jack eyes the object with newfound interest. “Glowy ascended space-alien Ancient or dusty, musty and old ancient?”

“The former.”

“Nice.” Jack makes an impatient ‘gimmie’ gesture and reluctantly Sam hands the Arrow over. He takes his time inspecting it, then begins to absently roll the object between his fingers. “So…what’s it do?”

“We’re not sure, sir.” Sam and Daniel share a glance. “But Daniel has a theory.”

“Of course he does.”

Ignoring the jibe, Daniel strikes a few keys on his computer’s keyboard, bringing a series of photographs onto the screen. “There are markings along the arrow’s shaft, here,” he says, pointing to a pair of pictures in the upper left corner, “and here.” With a click of the mouse, he zooms in on one of the images in particular, then turns to look at the others expectantly. “Look familiar to anyone?”

Teal’c arches an eyebrow. “These symbols look remarkably similar to the written language of the Ancients.”

“Exactly.” Daniel pauses to adjust his glasses. “Now, most of the text has been worn away but from what little I was able to translate, this arrow is intended to ‘illuminate Ophiuchus’.”

Jack’s fidgeting abruptly ceases. “Ophiuchus? The serpent holder?”

There’s a surprised silence, to which Jack responds defensively, “What? Contrary to popular opinion, I _do_ actually know things. Sometimes.”

Shaking his head, Daniel reaches for one of several large books lying open on his desk. “Ophiuchus, also known as Serpentarius,” he says, pointing to a Baroque-styled illustration of a man grasping a writhing snake with both hands. “The thirteenth constellation of the celestial zodiac.”

“I thought there were only twelve signs?”

“Twelve _astrological_ signs, yes. But the celestial zodiac consists of thirteen distinct constellations. Now, from what Helo was telling me last night, Colonial civilization consisted of twelve planets, or Colonies, each named after one of the original twelve tribes that left Kobol: Caprica, symbolized by the goat; Tauron by the bull; Picon by the fish. I’m pretty sure you can see where I’m going with this.”

Jack gives Daniel a blank look. “Not in the slightest.”

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Daniel explains, “Thirteen tribes, thirteen signs. The names of each of the twelve Colonies of Kobol correspond to one of the twelve signs of our celestial zodiac. If the Arrow of Apollo is meant to lead the way to Earth—”

“Then Earth must be the Ophiuchus the inscription on the Arrow refers to,” Sam interjects.

Daniel nods. “I don’t think it’s any coincidence that the Earth of their scriptures is represented by this particular constellation.”

Teal’c cocks his head as he considers Daniel’s words. “The name is strangely fitting given this planet’s previous occupation by the Goa’uld.”

“Isn’t it just?” Jack remarks with a smirk.

Sam pointedly ignores the glib remark. “I’d say it’s safe to assume that this arrow is meant to be part of a larger device of some kind. But beyond that, we have no way of knowing what its purpose may be.”

“And our new friends can’t clue us in?”

“I can; but only if you ask nicely.” Looking up, Daniel is surprised to see both Kara and Helo standing in the doorway. From the way Kara is leaning casually against the jamb, it looks as if the pair has been there for a while.

“I thought you were supposed to be confined to quarters.” Jack drops the arrow onto Daniel’s desk with a clatter and casting a stony glance at the pair of sheepish looking airmen standing only a few feet behind her.

“Look, do you want our help or not?”

Jack glowers at her but Kara doesn’t back down. After a minute Jack grudgingly relents, nodding to the guard and motioning for Kara to join them. “Just to be clear; I don’t _do_ nice.”

“Good to know,” Kara replies off-handedly as she ambles up beside him and leans in to examine the picture of Ophiuchus in Daniel’s book.

“Uh, guys?” Daniel’s fretful gaze bounces back and forth between the two of them. “The Arrow?”

“Of Apollo,” Kara says, still studying the drawing.

“Apollo? Son of Zeus?” Daniel interjects excitedly as he reaches of a book at the bottom of the pile and drops it in a cloud of dust on top of the others. “God of truth, prophecy and the arts?”

“You know,” Kara watches him with narrowed eyes as he begins hurriedly leafing through the pages, “for someone who claims to have never heard of the Twelve Colonies before, you sure as hell seem know a lot about us.”

“Not about you specifically, no. But on Earth several thousand years ago the ancient Greeks worshiped Apollo, Athena, Zeus…I wouldn’t be surprised if there were other gods from their Pantheon that are similar or the same as yours. Do you know whether—”

Jack rolls his eyes and reaches over Daniel’s shoulder to snatch the book away from the unsuspecting scientist. “Focus, Daniel.”

Sam gives the pair a disapproving look before turning back to Kara and Helo. “Do you have any idea what the Arrow is supposed to do?”

Helo glances at Kara before answering. “The scriptures say that the Arrow of Apollo will open the Tomb of Athena.”

“Well, that certainly clears things up,” Jack remarks.

“It’ll show us the way to Earth.”

Teal’c cocks his head. “But you are already here.”

Daniel nods thoughtfully. “Teal’c does have a point.”

The look on Kara’s face makes it clear that she is still far from convinced. Exasperated, Jack scrubs a hand through his already unruly hair. “Look, if I were in your position, I wouldn’t believe us either. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years it’s that Carter and Daniel are almost always right – no matter how crazy their theory sounds.”

“Thank you, sir. I think.”

Jack waves her off. “All I’m saying is, for now, why don’t you try giving us the benefit of the doubt?”

Helo and Kara exchange a glance. “So…now what?”

“Now? We contemplate what we’ve learned here today over a little thing I like to call…cake.”

Try as she might, Sam can’t conceal her responding grin. “Cake, sir?”

“You guys have probably been living on canned…space corn or something for months; am I right?” Jack cuts Helo off before he can respond. “Then it’s settled; to the commissary it is!”

“O’Neill, I do not believe cake will be readily available this early in the morning.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know a guy. Besides, Daniel needs coffee.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kara observes the lively exchange with a mixture of amusement and horror. “It’s a miracle your team has survived this long.”

Sam watches as Jack throws an arm around Helo’s shoulder and leads him out the door. Teal’c and Daniel follow in his wake, the latter complaining animatedly about Jack’s needling antics.

“No; it isn’t,” she replies with a smile.

 

*end chapter 5*


	6. Chapter 6

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Gee Teal’c,” Daniel says, eyeballing Helo’s over-laden tray as the man himself slides into a chair, “looks like we’ve found you a kindred spirit.”

“Or competition,” Jack mutters with a mischievous grin.

“Indeed.” Teal’c pauses to study the man sitting opposite and his food selections carefully. “Lieutenant Agathon, would you consider exchanging your jelly doughnut for my hominy grits?”

“Hominy grits?”

Teal’c points to a small dish balanced precariously on the edge of his tray. “It is an Earth breakfast food made from ground maize and traditionally garnished with large quantities of sugar and butter.”

Helo shrugs and offers the plate. “Sure.”

Jack makes a show of shaking his head, tsking loudly. “You’re getting the short end of the stick on that deal, Lieutenant.”

Helo glances warily at the bowl Teal’c has just shoved into his hand.

“Don’t listen to him, Helo.” Sam throws a brief, disapproving look at her commanding officer. “If I were in your position, I’d want to try a bite of everything.”

“But you have been.” Kara looks up from the spoon she’s been fiddling with to meet Sam’s gaze. “In our position, I mean. When you travel to other worlds.”

“Sure.”

“Must be nice.” Dropping the spoon with a thunk, Kara reaches for a mug of coffee. Raising it to her lips, she inhales deeply before taking a small, hesitant taste. Her entire demeanor changes in an instant. “Gods; that’s really, _really_ good.”

Curious, Helo reaches for his own mug and takes a sip. “Coffee? You guys have _coffee_?”

“Don’t you?” Daniel mumbles around a mouthful of pancake.

“Not anymore,” Kara says wistfully. 

“Well that’s…weird.”

“Actually sir, it kind of makes sense. The hypothetical possibilities for genetic variation may be infinite, but the conditions that allow for that kind of variability simply don’t exist outside of a laboratory. Humans as a species are only able to survive within a relatively narrow range of climactic conditions, so it stands to reason that under those constraints, there would be similarities in vegetation, animal life, even in the course of human evolution.”

So…what? You’re saying coffee is literally a universal constant?” Jack pretends to contemplate this for a moment. “Sweet.”

Daniel ignores the quip. “There seem to be quite a few parallels between our culture and your own – which is consistent with what we’ve encountered on other planets throughout the galaxy.”

Food momentarily forgotten Helo sets his elbows on the table and leans forward in his chair. “So they’re all like you – us?”

Sam nods. “Similar, yes. But each culture has evolved differently. Some are more technologically advanced than we are, some less. But the foundation and a lot of the basics of how our societies evolved are the same.”

Helo shakes his head. “It’s hard to believe there’s an entire _galaxy_ of humans out there that are like us. We thought that we were the only ones left – except for you.”

“Not by a long shot,” Sam says with a grin. “It’s not only humans out there, either.”

“Nope,” Jack says, popping the ‘p’ with a purse of his lips. “You’ve got your Replicators, your snake-heads—”

Helo glances worriedly at Kara. “Snake-heads?”

“O’Neill is speaking of the Goa’uld.”

“The Goa’uld,” Kara parrots back flatly.

“The Goa’uld are a parasitic alien race we encountered on one of our first few trips through the Stargate.”

“You forgot to mention that rather annoying habit they have of trying to conquer the galaxy and enslave the human race,” Jack says casually. “Tying and _failing_ , I might add.”

“Really?”

“Well, I don’t like to brag but…”

“We’ve had a couple close calls,” Sam cuts in. “And we still have a long way to go. But with the help of our allies we’ve been able to keep Earth safe and helped a lot of others along the way.”

“Indeed. If not for the Taur’i, my home planet of Chulak would still be ruled by the Goa’uld Apophis. My son would not know what it is to be free and the Jaffa would never have found the strength to rise up against their false gods.”

“So…what are you saying? That you’ll help us fight the Cylons?”

Carter glances at O’Neill. “If we have to, then yes we will. But there is another option: we can hide you, either here on Earth or on another planet in the Stargate network.”

“You’d be able to start rebuilding your lives.”

“And if the Cylons find us?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Jack replies. “Right now, I need you to answer me one simple question: do you want our help or not? Because if you don’t, none of this means squat.”

Helo glances across the table at Kara. “Starbuck?”

Arms crossed over her chest, Kara considers each of them in turn before giving a nod of assent. “I should probably warn you: President Roslin isn’t going to be nearly as easy to convince.”

“Swell.”

“We’re going to have our work cut out for us here as well,” Sam remarks, casting a significant look at Jack.

Daniel looks back and forth between the two in disbelief. “Surely the Pentagon—”

“You know as well as I do what the Pentagon’s priorities are, Daniel, and selfless – not to mention expensive – humanitarian efforts aren’t one of them They’re not going to let us go riding off into the cosmos after these people just because we’ve discovered yet another branch in humanity’s ever-growing family tree. Especially once they find out about these Cylons of theirs.”

There’s a lull in the conversation as everyone stops to consider the problem. Eventually, Teal’c pushes his tray out of the way and places his folded hands on the table. “If the Ancients were once on Kobol as Daniel Jackson and Major Carter believe, is it not possible that some of their technology may remain on the planet?”

“We do think that the Arrow is part of a larger device – very likely the Tomb of Athena in your Scriptures,” Sam chimes in, glancing at Kara and Helo before continuing, “It stands to reason that, where there’s one Ancient device—”

“There may be others,” Teal’c concludes.

“There _could_ be an Ancient Repository like the one we found on P3R-272.” Daniel looks expectantly at Jack. “The Pentagon has been itching to get their hands on one of those for a while now, right?”

“That they have,” Jack confirms with a nod. “And without a working gate on Kobol—”

“We’ll need the _Prometheus_ to get us there,” Sam concludes.

“And if we happen to run into this President Roslin of yours while we’re there,” Jack says with an exaggerated air, “well, it would be rude not to stop by and introduce ourselves, dontcha think?” he says, arching an eyebrow at Carter.

Suppressing a grin, Sam turns to Kara and Helo. “Your ships have faster-than-light capabilities?”

Kara nods.

“Then it’ll simply be a matter of converting our measure of distance to their own and showing them the way home,” Daniel says excitedly.

“Assuming these people don’t mistake us for Cylons and shoot us out of the sky first. And the General can convince the President to let us bring them back with us in the first place.” Jack scrubs a hand over his face. “This plan is flimsy at best.”

“A lack of sufficient planning has never stopped us before, O’Neill.”

“Quite right, T. Quite right. So,” Jack exclaims, smacking his palm against the table as he rises to his feet, “let’s get this half-baked show on the road, shall we?”

 

*fin.*


End file.
